


Stuck With Us

by unavoidablekoishi



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Comedy, Found Family, Gen, Just livin in a modern world babey, Modern AU, No humanizations, Present Day AU, Shenanigans, Slice of Life, They're all the same races as they were in the game, idk what the plot is, instead of regions of hyrule, itll happen while im writing it, kind of, look ill explain it somewhere in there lmao, lots of them - Freeform, the geography is kinda different too, the other places r kind of their own deal?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26721919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unavoidablekoishi/pseuds/unavoidablekoishi
Summary: It's a bit weird, when you think about it. Who would've expected all of these strange characters to wind up in this place together? Sure, it had crossed his mind, but he was too busy having fun to really care. After all, home is where the heart is.His brain, on the other hand, is telling him to move out.
Comments: 19
Kudos: 84





	1. Introducing Urbosa

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

The knife that’s about to edge into the slot of a toaster becomes still. There’s an odd air of innocence about the entire act- from the unruly blond-haired man holding the implement and the toaster that sits blamelessly on the counter. He blinks, and his cerulean-coloured eyes sparkle under the kitchen’s fluorescent lighting. He goes still, but doesn’t stop what he’s doing as he stares at the redheaded woman sitting at the table behind him.

Her eyes are trained on the device in her hand, thumb sliding sharply across the screen every so often but she doesn’t look at him. At this point, she doesn’t need to. She reaches out for the mug of coffee sitting neatly on the table in front of her, taking a quiet sip. 

“If Zelda catches you doing that she won’t be happy, you know.”

He does know, but he tilts his head anyway. It’s true, Zelda  _ would  _ be very unhappy if she were to come in and find him sticking metal implements into electrical devices. On the other hand… he really  _ did  _ want that piece of toast. It’s not his fault that the toaster didn’t work! He’d been in favour of buying a new one for months now. Especially one of those big ones with the many slots. His toasting abilities would be unparalleled with that kind of equipment. 

As nice a dream as that was, that didn’t change the fact that he was sitting here with no toast and a churning stomach that begged him for food. He hadn’t gone shopping yet, so his section of the fridge was practically empty and the shared cupboards were bare, too. He pauses for a moment and seriously weighs up his options.

Naturally, he’s in favour of food. He happily carries on, only to be met with a deep sigh.

“At  _ least  _ turn the toaster off first.”

He resigns himself to flicking off the switch at the wall and pulling the plug out, for good measure. Now, if he was careful, he could easily lever the tasty piece of bread out without causing further damage to the poor appliance. He’s unaware of the pair of eyes that are now watching him from the table, accompanied by a twisted expression of bemusement. 

“Link.”

Link looks up.

“Why don’t you get a plate and just tip the toaster upside-down instead?”

Link looks vacant for a moment but he nods, tossing the knife aside and rummaging through one of the lower cabinets for a plate. There’s a satisfying clink as the ceramic hits the kitchen counter and Link reaches out to pick up the appliance as the woman turns back and finishes the rest of her drink, but not before uselessly pointing out, “Mind, the toaster’s still hot,” as Link suddenly recoils with a yelp.

Urbosa was really quite good at pretending to help whilst being totally ineffectual.

* * *

An empty plate of crumbs, sits on the table in front of Link and he reaches out to swipe up a fingerful of the particles to put in his mouth. Urbosa sits opposite him with a new mug of coffee and she’s still flicking through her phone. The light of the early morning streams proudly through the blinds of the kitchen window, casting a glow across the wood of the table and a sheen on Link’s empty plate. Link winces, feeling the light hit his eyes a little too harshly.

“You’re not normally up this early,” Urbosa comments, looking up at him over the screen of her phone. Link’s too busy staring at the rose-coloured case that’s clipped to the back of the device, but those were his thoughts exactly. It was far too early for any reasonable student to be awake. He didn’t even have classes today! He can only nod, lamely.

“I can’t tell what’s more tenacious- your desire to sleep or your desire to eat, though I suppose your stomach won this time around.” Urbosa smiles and Link wishes she wouldn’t say that, because he’s actually still hungry and the supermarkets aren’t even open yet, so he can’t go shopping until later. He sighs, resting his head on the table as he stares out into what he can see of the back garden.

For the strange mix of mostly tidy people living in this house, the garden sure was a colossal mess. There was a burnt-out bonfire pit smack bang in the middle, right next to the leather couch he’d managed to take (steal) from his previous residence. His room had been too small for it but, since there were enough seats inside, he figured sticking it in the garden was a good idea. It actually had been, too. Bonfires were quite common in the summer, especially if Urbosa had been trying to wrestle the overzealous bushes that had grown beyond their boundaries over the winter. Watching her try to attack the prickly foliage with the most rusted and ineffectual pair of trimmers he’d ever seen had been… entertaining, until she roped him into helping. Still, it made for a nice fire to sit beside, even if the couch was a bit ratty from the months of being outside.

The weather was getting nice now. He wouldn’t mind having a fire sometime in the future. 

“Zelda was going to go shopping later. Go with her.”

Her words spur Link to cease staring out of the window. Urbosa speaks quite bluntly, Link notes, but there’s a formal tone to it which makes deciphering her intentions oddly difficult. From what he’s seen, this is quite common in Gerudo women. He supposes this is one of the many cultural differences this household faced. 

Well, technically  _ he  _ was the cultural difference, considering this was her house.

Urbosa was… sort of a landlady here. Not nearly as miserly, she would argue- and she’s right. Though she rents the spare rooms out to whoever in central Hyrule was looking for accommodation, she still lived here. Most of the rent money actually went to electricity bills and food, since this wasn’t exactly where her income came from. Of course, a lot of her own money went into this house, too, so the rent arrangements are pretty agreeable. In all honesty, Link feels like he should be paying  _ more  _ than he already is but Urbosa had argued that she didn’t exactly enjoy taking money from people who hadn’t much more than the clothes on their back and a stolen couch. He’d begrudgingly agreed with her.

He looks up at her from across the table. For lack of a better term, she is quite simply stunning. He wouldn’t dare ask her age, nor would he dare hazard a guess, so he’s content in appreciating her appearance from a distance. At the moment, her face is devoid of makeup, which is still a sight he has yet to adjust to. She’s also not entirely dressed for the day either, still wearing a pair of leopard-print leggings (which Link desperately wishes he owned) and a crop top (which Link also wishes he owned, because he knows he’d look damn fine in one). No doubt, after she’s properly woken up, she’ll retreat to her room to get ready. 

She’s enormously tall, too. Link had noticed the doorframes in this house were a lot larger than the ones from his previous Hylian apartment, but he’d also been equally surprised to see a Goron living here, too. That didn’t mean the house was large, though. It was, by no stretch of the margin, a big house but it was comfortable. Big enough to fit a Gerudo and a Goron in the same room, but small enough for it to be a problem, and it’s normally his problem, since he’s the one squashed between them.

Urbosa suddenly perks up, putting her phone down, “Actually, if you’re going shopping, do you mind doing a full round? I’ll give you the money- I just have things to tidy up here.”

Link shrugs, which generally means ‘sure, why not’ and Urbosa shifts to rest her chin on the palm of her hand, “Thank you. It might be a lot, so if you and Zelda go together, that would be helpful.”

As she speaks, Link pulls himself up from the table, taking his plate and tipping the leftover crumbs into the bin, before putting it neatly in the dishwasher. He tilts his head, keeping his eye on her as she speaks, and his gesture silently asks ‘what’s the occasion?’. Urbosa has grown very accustomed to Link’s silence, and is generally smart enough to fill in the blanks for herself. 

She flicks a stray lock of her away from her face and smiles softly as she says, “My niece is coming to stay with us soon. I figured I should get a headstart on cleaning this place up a bit.”

Link runs a hand through his unkempt hair, sheepishly. Mostly because he knows he unintentionally ends up at the root of most household incidents and Urbosa picks up very easily on this, as she adds, “You lot don’t make it easy for me, do you?”

He shakes his head cheekily, closing the dishwasher, as he passes back by the table with the intention of honestly just going back to bed. It was too early to do anything but zone out in front of the television- at the very least, he could get a bit of a kip in before Zelda breaks his door down to tell him about today’s plans.

He passes through the doorway that leads out into the living room as Urbosa calls out from behind him, “I’ll leave the money on the table later. Don’t forget to pick it up.”

He sort of registers the request, but he’s too busy thinking about his bed and the moment he enters his room, he flops on the bed, bathing in the warmth of the sunlight streaming through his curtains. 

Link’s room is one of the smallest in the house, but he doesn’t mind. He prefers it, honestly. He hadn’t many material possessions prior to moving here, but the coziness of it all makes it really feel like a home. His bed is shoved into the corner closest to the door, covered in a thick duvet and blankets he’d managed to acquire. There’s a small dresser on the other side of the room, which holds general toiletries. Deodorant, hairbrush- all the things that allow him to present himself to the outside world as a socially acceptable human being. 

Aside from that, there’s also a small desk which is piled high with bits of paper that he’s not looked at for months. The chair that comes with it is covered in clothes, so it’s been retired from its initial purpose for the time being. The floor is covered in clothes, too, but you can’t retire a floor so Link just walks all over them, much to Zelda’s irritation, he knows.

It’s a little messy, it’s not perfect but, somehow, he’s made a home of it, and it’s the best one he’s had so far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i actually dont have a big backlog of this story like i normally do with fics so whats coming next is a Fucking Surprise boys


	2. Introducing Zelda

Link wakes up to the sound of talking coming from the living room. His bedroom door opens right into it, which isn’t the biggest problem for him until people come barging into his room for who knows what. He tries to blink the exhaustion out of his eyes, giving himself a moment to wake up as he listens to the muffled talking from next door.

He’s not sure what time it is, and he doesn’t bother to check, as he hoists himself out of bed and changes his shirt (Zelda was very observant about how often Link wore his clothes for. Luckily, he managed to get away with wearing the same ones on rotation. Still, there was only so long he could go with the same shirts before Urbosa threatened to bleach his clothes.) He opts for a simple green one, but doesn’t bother to change the bottoms, which he’s pretty sure are from an old pair of Zelda’s pyjamas. At least, the pink plaid pattern and fluffy cat motif suggests so. 

Speaking of Zelda, when Link leaves his room, he finds she’s sitting on the sofa, chatting to Urbosa. 

She’s a little younger than he is, but with the same bright blonde hair and blue eyes- it’s enough to make them look like siblings and, in a way, she kind of is to him. She perks up when he appears, but her eyes narrow when she takes a moment to look him up and down.

Messy hair- mostly likely hasn’t been brushed in two days. Shirt that she hasn’t seen him wear for a while, but there’s a big stain on the bottom of it so it doesn’t check out. Pyjama bottoms that  _ definitely  _ aren’t his and, somehow, his lack of socks is the least offensive part of this entire ensemble. Zelda frowns.

“It’s noon! Link, how are you not even properly dressed yet?”

Link shrugs, perching on the armrest of the sofa as Zelda pouts at him. Seriously, how could he live like that? Waking up at noon only gave her a headache, and wearing the same clothes for a week just felt disgusting. Still, he took showers regularly enough, so it’s not like she can get  _ too  _ mad at him.

“He was awake earlier,” Urbosa points out, sitting back comfortably into the couch as she watches her two younger tenants. Zelda’s expression is one of absolute shock, to which Link can’t help but feel slightly offended at. Her head darts between Link and Urbosa, as she asks, “What? What for? Did you have that nightmare about the cucco again? Link, I told you that’s never going to--”

He cannot shake his head fast enough.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wake up before 11 in the entire time we’ve lived here. I’m surprised you even know what a morning is!” Zelda chides him, and Link can only hang his head because it’s not like she’s  _ wrong _ . If she could find a way to funnel her limitless energy into him, then they’d both be happy, but, right now, that did nothing to dispel Link’s lethargy. 

Urbosa emits a small groan as she pushes herself upright. She’s gotten fully dressed since the last time Link had seen her, and her lips are now painted with her favourite shade of blue. The couch shifts slightly with the loss of her weight and she runs a hand through her ponytail, sighing as she does so.

“I suppose I should make a start on cleaning, then.”

Zelda smiles, “I know this is because your niece is coming down but, you know, you don’t strike me as the home-making type.”

“That’s because I’m not, but it  _ is  _ my house. Besides that, I need to make proper room for her to stay,” she saunters off towards the kitchen, “and, in my defense, I don’t end up cleaning a great deal around here because you end up doing it all first! Between you and Mipha, there’s practically nothing to do until Link sets the house on fire again.”

Zelda flushes slightly and so does Link- the tips of their ears go pink in a manner very common for Hylian, “Well, I sort of just… do it as I go along! It’s nice to be able to contribute to a household!” Zelda says this in a quiet tone that makes Urbosa laugh heartily.

“So, you’re enjoying this independence then, are you?”

Zelda nods eagerly, “Of course I am! This is nothing like living back home. It’s nice to be able to do what I like,” as she says this, a small crease sets into her forehead, as she blandly tacks on, “it’s nice to be able to wash my own underwear for once, too.”

Link shakes his head, silently telling Zelda that there’s no way he can relate to that and Zelda is not surprised by this in the slightest; coming from the boy who could barely throw a shirt in the washing machine. Zelda’s expression turns sour, “I can’t imagine what kind of clothes you have rotting away in your bedroom!”

Link can only grin. Urbosa shakes her head, retreating back out into the kitchen, but not before calling, “Don’t forget about going shopping later- I gave Zelda the list I wrote.”

Ah, that’s right, Urbosa had wanted them to stock up the kitchen. He’d initially only planned on doing a small shop, just to fill up his portion of the fridge with the bare essentials but, if they’re going this far, he might as well scrape the money together to do it properly. He moves to get up from the couch but is stopped by a hand on his knee and Zelda squinting up at him.

“You are  _ not  _ going out with me dressed like that.”

Link sighs.

* * *

By the time they leave the house, Link has been wrestled into a shirt without an obvious stain on it and a pair of trousers that aren’t covered in pink cat motifs. Zelda had eyed him suspiciously whilst he was putting on his sandals, knowing damn well that it was an excuse to not have to find any socks. In his defense, the weather was getting warmer so it was totally a good day to put on sandals. He doesn’t know what she’s so picky about.

On the other hand, Zelda always strived to maintain a good appearance, no matter the occasion and he knows this is mostly because of her upbringing. 

Never in his life, would he have expected to share a house with the princess of Hyrule. 

It had come as quite the surprise to him, when she had turned up. It wasn’t much longer after he’d moved in, and the other rooms in the house were already occupied, leaving one left. Urbosa had brought her back one night, much to the shock of everybody in the house, but, after a while, it had become the norm. It was like Zelda wasn’t even the princess anymore- she was just a housemate and Link suspects that this is what she had been trying to achieve. Even the mundane aspects of everyday life in a house like this is enough to bring her newfound joy. It’s still quite a novel experience for her, which makes observing her in this environment quite enjoyable.

There are times, he thinks, where Zelda doesn’t quite understand what it is to live in this manner, and that definitely shows through her behaviour, but that’s unavoidable. If he had to swap places with her and live in a castle, he’d probably be pretty unaccustomed to the conduct of royals. Either way, it was nice to have her here, even if she did nag him relentlessly. She was the perfect foil for his lazy demeanour, so they worked together quite well.

Zelda locks the door behind them as Link stands in the midday sunlight, enjoying the warmth it provides. Putting the keys in her bag, she hurries to catch up with Link, but they’re in no real rush. The white dress and sandals she’s wearing looks really quite nice in the good weather. She always managed to look immaculate. 

She begins to walk down the driveway and Link quirks a brow. He stands where he is, not moving, in the hopes that Zelda will catch his question and, eventually, she does.

“The supermarket isn’t far, we can walk!”

Link frowns, indicating to her bag, and Zelda is hit with a sudden realisation, as she pulls Urbosa’s list out. “Oh, that’s right,” she murmurs, “This list is quite long, but she’s too busy to drive us!”

His frown doesn’t waver and is, eventually, matched by Zelda’s.

“I’m not letting you drive! You drive like a maniac!” she argues, shoving the list back into her purse. Link shrugs, indicating to the garage behind them. It’s shut at the moment, but the door is painted a deep green and decorated with random decals from places far from here. Zelda huffs, folding her arms.

“You’re not taking the bike! How are you going to carry groceries on it?”

In the end, he throws up his hands, because there wasn’t very much choice here. Urbosa would be too busy to drive them, and none of the other housemates were around at the moment. Link  _ was  _ able to drive Urbosa’s car (though he may drive like a maniac, he’s a maniac with a license) and his own vehicle is somewhat ineffective in this endeavour. That left them with very little options.

Eventually, Zelda sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Fine. Get the car.”

Link grins, dashing back off towards the house to fetch Urbosa’s car keys. She wouldn’t mind them using it, since she wasn’t going out today, and the sharing of vehicles was acceptable in this household. Zelda watches Link leave and it just serves to remind her how lucky she had been to be invited to live here.

They may be housemates, but they were all also friends. When Zelda had expressed her desire to live away from the castle, to live independently, naturally her father had been worried. However, he also wanted his daughter to live as she wanted, thinking it might be good for her to expand her horizons. Luckily, Urbosa was more than happy to accommodate Zelda for this time, which put both of their anxieties to rest. 

Her relationship with Urbosa definitely helped her to settle down but, to her surprise, her relationships with the other housemates had grown far quicker than she could’ve imagined. She no longer lived in a house of strangers- it had been exactly what she’d wanted. Of course, she’d been able to make her own friends during her studies at the nearby university, but it was nice to come back to these… well, she was going to say ‘family’ but the word ‘idiots’ had jumped in instead. Well, it’s not like that was wrong, either. It was a family of idiots, they’d created.

She watches as Link pulls out of the drive in Urbosa’s sandy-coloured car. He reaches out to adjust the wing mirror slightly, as he halts long enough for Zelda to climb into the passenger seat. With a tense expression, Zelda puts her seatbelt on and grits out, “Just… be careful, alright? If I die in an easily avoidable vehicular accident, you’ll have my father to answer to.”

Link figures he can trip over that hurdle when he gets to it. For now, he pulls out of the driveway, veering off in the direction of the supermarket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> link drifts every corner


	3. Introducing Mipha

“What do you mean you can’t find the bread?”

Link shrugs, offering a blameless expression but no words and Zelda sags in exasperation. The shopping trolley she’s trying to manoeuvre through the aisles has a dodgy wheel, which only exacerbates the headache Link is giving her by not being able to find the most basic of foods. 

“Well, it’s not like they’re  _ not  _ going to have any! Maybe try the other side of the store. I have to find some palm fruits and-- I don’t even know what this is! Link, do you know what this is?” She shoves the list under his nose and he squints at it. Urbosa’s handwriting is bad enough- now he has to try and figure out what this mystery food item he’s never heard of is. 

He shrugs again and Zelda sighs, going back through the list with a solemn expression, “I suppose this must be a Gerudo thing. I’ll see if I can ask somebody if they can help-- watch the trolley for me, will you?”

She doesn’t even wait for Link to nod, before dashing off in search of a staff member who could have some idea of what Urbosa was after, leaving Link behind to look after the cart. It’s almost full, packed high with all sorts of items. Most of it are raw ingredients- apples, flour, carrots. There’s a small packet of fish jerky, popular amongst the Zora and one of his housemates, a few jars of preserves with Rito branding on them (Link thinks the little cartoon bird mascot from this particular brand is especially cute) and a sack of rock potatoes. They’re not even potatoes. They’re just rocks. Nonetheless, he recognises the brand as a large supplier of Goron foodstuffs.

Looking at food from other cultures was interesting. Growing up in a southern area of a Hylian-majorative country, he only ever saw the most basic imports from other places but, now that he was living here in this enormous capital, one of the biggest cultural melting pots of Hyrule, he’d been introduced to all sorts of things. 

Zora-majorative regions were well known for their exports of fish and seafood. This ranged from freshwater fish, fish products and some… really quite grotesque looking sea creatures that were supposedly edible. He hadn’t been brave enough to try them yet but his housemate seemed to enjoy them, recommending them to him at every opportunity (but had failed to convince him to try her special sea slug stew). Their native foodstuffs were elegant, but slightly suspicious.

Warm, mountainous regions occupied by Goron settlements are an enormous exporter of rocks and other earthy edibles. He’s seen them everywhere but has yet to try any of it, on account of the fact that if he had the stomach acid to dissolve rock, he’d most likely be dead. Perhaps that’s an endeavour for later on in life. He'd have a lot less to lose.

Zelda comes back, arms full of products, whilst Link is busy zoning off and contemplating the world around him; she watches his dreamy expression with bemusement, carefully balancing the last of the items on the top of the shopping trolley. Seeing it all here now, Zelda’s quite thankful that they hadn’t walked. She’s not sure it could all fit in the car, let alone be carried by two people. Now, so long as Link could get them back home without being responsible for a vehicular disaster, everything would be just fine.

“I think this is all of it,” Zelda takes control of the trolley, having to really put her back into it to get it to move, as they head off towards the checkout counters.

The supermarket isn’t suffocatingly busy today, especially since it’s only noon, so they don’t have to wait too long to get to an empty checkout. The Zora working there smiles, but looks dead behind the eyes when he sees the state of their shopping cart. Link can only smile apologetically as Zelda quickly loads the items onto the belt. Poor guy. 

The loud beeps are consistent with every item scanned, and Link looks around the store as they wait for all the items to go through. He’d placed a few things down, but getting under Zelda’s feet whilst she was busy wasn’t the brightest idea, he’d come to learn. He almost felt a bit like a child, just standing there, waiting for them to get ready to go.

The items are all quickly packed in bags, and Link is silently planning how he’s going to unload them from the car, but he’s interrupted when Zelda holds her hand out to him, expectantly. He blinks.

Zelda stares, “Link. Money?”

Ah.

_ Ah. _

Link’s mouth drops slightly and, as it does, Zelda’s eyebrows begin to rise. She shakes her head ever so slightly.

“Don’t… don’t tell me you…”

He grits his teeth, but his face is still borderline panic as he uselessly shrugs. He’d forgotten to pick up the money Urbosa had left on the table for them! She’d told him twice and he’d  _ still  _ forgotten- on top of that, with what they had bought, neither of them had the money on hand to pay for it all. 

Link feels bad for the poor Zora who’s watching them, knowing damn well what’s going on here. He politely refrains from saying anything, and, before Zelda can practically explode, Link pulls his phone from his pocket. He waves one hand to calm her down, frantically typing with the other.

“Sorry about this,” Zelda says sheepishly to the employee, “Can you just give us a few moments?” 

The employee nods, beginning to sift through some things at the checkout, probably pretending to keep himself busy to avoid bringing them any more shame. It wasn’t the most desirable of situations for anyone.

“How could you forget?! She even told you where she put it!”

Zelda hisses at Link, quiet enough so nobody around them can hear it, and Link hangs his head. That had been a bit of a screw-up on his part, he’ll admit, but, if luck was in their favour, they would be rescued shortly. Still, these moments were always quite embarrassing. In the meantime, Zelda gathers the bags so that they’re all ready to go.

“Again, really sorry about this,” she apologises to the clerk, who waves a hand dismissively, in the hopes of dispelling Zelda’s nerves. 

“It’s really no problem. These things happen,” he responds, but is looking equally as awkward. Link suspects he probably didn’t get trained for this. 

However, as the employee speaks, a pair of feet can be heard hurriedly slapping against the tiled floor, and someone calls out over the bustle of the store.

“I’m here! Here, I brought the money!”

Zelda breathes a sigh of relief, but perks up with a large smile, “Mipha!”

Mipha screeches to a halt beside them, emitting a much-needed breath and holding out her hand for Zelda to take the rupees. The employee graciously accepts the payment and begins helping the next customer as Link begins to try and move the bags before they attract any more unnecessary attention. It was lucky for him that Mipha responded so quickly.

Mipha is another resident of their home, sleeping in one of the rooms upstairs. Despite how out-of-breath and exhausted she looks right now, she’s quite a dainty individual. Not one to be crossed, but prim nonetheless. However, Mipha has a very good habit of always arriving at the right time, which had worked perfectly in their favour. 

They manage to pick up all the bags between them, and begin to trudge back to the car. 

“How did you get here so quickly? I thought you were still in classes at this time!” Zelda manages to speak around the huffs the heavy bags elicit from her, as they manage to leave the store and get out into the sunshine. Mipha wobbles under the weight of the goods, but manages to reply.

“I was actually already on my way here. Urbosa said that you left the money behind and asked me to deliver it to you,” she explains, gasping as she does so, “as for my classes, well, the professor had a heart attack in the middle of our lecture. Unfortunate, though slightly ironic for a teacher of medicine.”

“Well, we’re very lucky you turned up when you did!”

Link manages to kick the boot of the car open with his foot, sighing as he finally sheds the weight into the small compartment. Zelda and Mipha practically drop their bags, rubbing away the aches and pains in their arms. The heat of the sun made heavy lifting in no way enjoyable, and the three of them are finally glad to get the bags in and get back into the car.

With Link in the driver seat, Zelda in the passenger seat and Mipha in the back, the three of them take a moment to sit in silence and relax. Urbosa had needed so many things! Of course, it didn’t help that both Link and Zelda had their own shopping lists to attend to, as well. Nonetheless, it was all done with now. Link sticks the keys into the ignition and turns the car on, but sits for a moment and fiddles with the radio.

“Oh, I picked up some of that fish snack you like. I noticed you were running out,” Zelda murmurs, allowing her head to tip back and rest against the seat as she relaxes. Mipha perks up for a moment- she smiles, though Zelda can’t see it, as she says, “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

Link finally settles on a radio station without an obnoxiously chatty host, playing some easy-listening tunes, and begins to set about pulling out of the supermarket car park. Zelda instinctively grips onto the sides of the seat, silently praying that he doesn’t hit anybody and Mipha scrambles to put on a seatbelt.

The car rolls over the soft tarmac of the car park, slowly edging its way towards the exit, before turning out onto the main road. The cherry-shaped air freshener dangling from the rear-view mirror sways with every curve the car makes.

That had been another unexpected turn of events in his life. Living alongside Zelda, princess of Hyrule, was one thing, but Mipha?

She was the princess of the Zora. Her family’s lineage ran deep, right alongside Zelda’s, and he can hardly wrap his head around having them both in the same house. One princess was a very rare occurrence, but two? He finds himself impressed but frightened at Urbosa’s formidable networking skills. Then again, as an ambassador of her country, it was pretty much part of the job. Taking them in as housemates was just an optional bonus.

He’d expected them to be far more terrifying. Sure, they were both remarkably meticulous in their own ways (most of the household chores were voluntarily taken up by the two of them), but they were the sweetest girls he’d ever come to know. Zelda was surely a force to be reckoned with, but she went to such lengths for the people around her and put such a remarkable amount of effort into being in this new environment. Mipha’s kindness was positively limitless, reaching out to her friends and assuring their comfort at any point she could. Knowing them the way he does now, he wonders why he was ever wary to begin with.

Glancing up at the rear-view mirror, Link decides that, lunacy-permitting, he will drive home as safely as he can. After all, he’s ferrying some pretty precious cargo, and he’s not just talking about the eggs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> link: bitch u thought  
> link: *swerves*


	4. Introducing Daruk

Link manages to pull the car back into the drive without taking any innocent lives along the way. Zelda breathes a hearty sigh of relief when the car finally judders to a stop, soon scrambling to vacate the vehicle alongside her Zora counterpart. Link also takes a moment to sit in peace for a moment, before effectively peeling himself from the leather-upholstered seats of Urbosa’s car.

When they had left, the shoddily-painted garage door had been locked shut, but, upon arrival, Link had immediately noticed that it was now wide open. That could only mean the lodger of the garage was finally home and, to be honest, it’s taken him long enough. Link thinks he must’ve been gone about a week now.

He locks the car behind him as Zelda and Mipha scramble to open the boot, trying to strategize how to carry the goods indoors in the most effective way possible. Zelda was a master at strategizing virtually anything. If it required prior thought, Zelda would be the one to skilfully overthink it. Absolute polar opposite to him, if he does say so himself.

He would jump in and begin to help… but he thinks he’ll take a moment to watch Zelda attempt to balance about five bags on each arm, much to the panicked disapproval of Mipha. Though Zelda was effectively the brains behind every thought in the house, Mipha was the permanently-on-call nurse, who could impose health and safety protocols on things you didn’t even know could be regulated. Link guiltily thinks back to the toaster, but, naturally, says nothing.

As Zelda emits a pained grunt, daring to move her foot an inch (and risking dropping everything entirely, alongside her dignity) she feels a warm force approach her from behind, practically picking her up, as the bags are lifted out of her arms.

“Woah there, little lady, you don’t wanna be tryin’ to carry such a heavy load at once. At least, not without me to help you.”

Now there was a familiar voice. Rugged as rock, and about as smooth as gravel, but oddly comforting all the same. Daruk was the one man Link could accurately describe as both terrifying  _ and  _ uplifting. He was intimidating and encouraging in equal measure, but, over time, the intimidation had dissipated like smoke, leaving behind the hardened, yet reasonable individual that was Daruk. Stubborn as a rock, but friendly nonetheless. 

He and Link got on like a house on fire…

...or maybe two or three (and that didn’t count the rogue bonfire incident, since it was out of both of their hands and more or less down to the uncontrollable wonders of nature. Urbosa didn’t take that answer positively.)

Daruk lifts the bags like it’s nothing at all, and it, in fairness, it really isn’t. The man is built like a ten-foot brick shithouse, reinforced with a foot-thick lining of lead, and then reinforced with even more bricks. It’s no wonder he lives in the garage.

Link eyes the state of the room out of the corner of his eye, as Daruk begins to shift the bags in the direction of the house, accompanied by Zelda and Mipha. Out of everyone in the house (Daruk aside), Link was probably the one who saw the most of the garage. After all, it didn’t just house Daruk. It was also home to his motorcycle.

He was thinking of renaming it ‘Zelda’s Terror’ but that would be slightly inaccurate. Zelda didn’t mind motorbikes-- in fact, she was quite interested by the prospect of owning one herself. No, it was only when he was driving it, did she have a problem. He supposes he can’t really blame her for that. He’d had it coming when he’d almost skidded into that bumper... and the other thirty-five bumpers on top of that.

It’s pretty old. Not exactly a top-of-the-range model anymore. He’s kept it alive with bits and pieces he’s managed to salvage from all four corners of the city, but not without help from Daruk. Sure, his dexterity left something to be desired, but when he and Link teamed up, they could tinker with just about anything. It was something of a bonding time for them. 

(That, and barrelling down various hills and mountains in a variety of vehicles, seeing who could break their face the least in the process, but some things were better left unmentioned- especially to Zelda.)

He gives it a once-over inspection, having not taken it out for a week or so now. If he had to pick a possession most important to him, this would be it. Even though, by legal definitions, it’s not ‘his’ (and one man’s trash is most certainly another man’s treasure), it still brought him joy. It also provides him a way to get around town without having to resort to public transport, which subsequently brings him even more joy.

Link eventually tears himself from the bike, grabs the last two bags from within the confines of the boot, kicks it shut, and heads inside.

The kitchen is, naturally, a bit of a state. Between the bags on the floor, the three people rushing to get everything put away, and Daruk, who is trying to stand in the corner as unobtrusively as possible- it’s a mess. However, for their household, it’s pretty normal.

“Do we really need this much food?” Daruk scratches his head, “I mean, it’s only Riju. That’s just one extra person!”

Urbosa blows a stray hair out of her face, as she tucks a few jars into the cupboard, “Cooking for Riju is easy- it’s the rest of you that I have to worry about. Between you and Link, it’s a wonder we get to eat anything at all. You’d eat me out of house and home if you could.”

Link decides that now is his cue for a somewhat sheepish expression. Daruk simply laughs, “Well, in my defense, I have a very specific diet--”

“By that, I mean you’ll eat the house, and Link will eat the home. I don’t care if it’s tasty- if I see another brick out of place in this building, you’re paying for it.”

Daruk doesn’t seem remotely fazed by Urbosa’s mild threat, as he says, “Anyway, if you’re wantin’ to cook a lot, I could grab the big grill from the shed. Weather’s gettin’ warmer now! Should be nice, right?”

“And risk turning the back garden into apocalyptic inferno number two? Wait until it rains,” Urbosa replies, sharply, closing the cupboard door. She swiftly sidesteps Zelda, who is crouched down, filling the bottom cupboard with various packets. Mipha is busy shoving as much as she can into the fridge, but it’s turning into quite a strenuous task.

“Well, it was only a suggestion,” Daruk accedes.

Zelda emits a huff, as she finally manages to get down to the last item in the bag. She holds it up to try and read the label, but it’s in a language she’s unfamiliar with. Her Gerudo is admittedly not very strong, despite Urbosa’s lessons. It’s not exactly the top of her list of priorities, but she’s determined to become at least somewhat fluent in the language.

“I’ve never seen these foods before,” Zelda murmurs, as Urbosa finally takes a moment to sit down at the table, “I suppose I just bypass them when I go shopping, seeing as I can’t read the labels.”

“Riju’s travelling quite a way away from home- not that she’s the type to get homesick, but I thought it would be nice to cook some dishes she likes. I wouldn’t buy them normally. Not unless I really fancied it, anyway.”

Daruk takes a seat next to her, almost breaking the chair in the process, as he scratches his chin, “I haven’t seen Riju for a long time, now. Last I saw her, she must’ve only been a baby. Can’t imagine how much she’s grown since then.”

Zelda occupies the seat opposite Urbosa, eyes shining, as she leans over the table, “You’ve met Riju before?”

“Sure. Like I said, it was a long time ago now, but I remember. Tiny little thing, she was,” after he says that, he emits a deep laugh, “Really puts things into perspective, doesn’t it? I forget how long I’ve lived here for!”

“Long enough, I think.” Urbosa smirks, though her tone is teasing.

Link takes a seat beside Zelda, effectively joining the conversation, as Mipha scampers off to do something else. Now that he thinks about it, Daruk had once told him that he’d been living in this house with Urbosa longer than all the rest of them put together. His room had always been the garage, and it didn’t look like he was leaving any time soon, either. He seems to be pretty comfortable where he is.

However, Daruk’s long-term residence in the house had spurred a very comfortable relationship between him and Urbosa. Urbosa was hardly his landlady anymore, and that had been obvious to Link the first few days he’d lived here. Daruk wasn’t afraid to poke fun at Urbosa, and, conversely, Urbosa wasn’t afraid to nag Daruk. They weren’t exactly the type to bicker, but they sort of did it anyway. If push ever came to shove, they weren’t afraid to take each other on, and Link almost envies their relationship. They were best friends.

Now that he thinks about it, it’s not too far from the relationship he and Zelda have. Link knows how to poke fun at her, and she’s definitely not afraid to scold him. Link also knows how to reach out to her, and she, too, knows how to care for him. She’d arrived at the house not long after he had, which meant they’d both been quite new to this environment, and they had gladly shared that experience, forging this friendship as they did so. 

Even though he’s created bonds with the other tenants, his friendship with Zelda strikes him as something that will always be just a little bit different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rockman man me a rock


	5. Introducing Revali

Dinnertime is, without a doubt, the most hectic time of the day in this house.

Link is quite used to cooking for himself, as are a few of the others, but he’d been surprised when they’d all slipped into a daily routine for dinner. There wasn’t much of a strict rota for these things, though. The duty of cooking generally fell between him, Urbosa and Mipha. Zelda was still learning how to cook (though it wasn’t exactly turning out to be a strength of hers) but there were no assigned days. Dinner was simply prepared by the person who started cooking first, and as for what dinner would be, well, that was a mystery every time.

(Though a rule had been enforced in which residents must be notified if a particularly adventurous meal was to be served that night. Link isn’t exactly a picky eater, but he doesn’t care much for being presented a sea slug stew without forewarning.)

Cleaning isn’t much of a hassle, either. Certain people tend to jump to certain tasks, finding contentment in one and exhaustion in another. Link preferred cooking more than cleaning, much in the way that Zelda… well, Zelda enjoyed both activities, but had been temporarily discouraged from cooking for the house until she’d at least learnt how to boil water without somehow creating a biohazard.

Lucky for them, Urbosa was cooking tonight, utilising some of the ingredients they’d bought earlier, and Link was becoming impatient by the scent of it. Gerudo dishes were always delicious, and even better when created by an expert. He slouches at the table, basking in the savoury aroma with a dreamy expression on his face.

The plates have already been set out. There are 5 in total, plus a slab of slate for Daruk and his rocks, all with neatly placed cutlery. At the moment, Link’s the only one sat there, but he often has a habit of being early to mealtimes, so it’s not an unusual sight. It’s hard to focus on anything when something smells so good! 

He lazily watches Urbosa, her face partially obscured by a heavy cloud of steam, slick with oils and spices. The light from the extractor fan right above the stove casts a heavy beam of light upon her, making the rest of the room seem dim by comparison. It’s actually quite atmospheric, in a way. Not exactly fancy, but nothing in this house was.

The chair next to him suddenly screeches, shuddering against the floor as it’s pulled back, only to be occupied by Zelda.

“How long have you been sat here?”

She asks, but knows she won’t get a real response. All questions for Link are virtually rhetorical, except for those he can offer some kind of nonverbal reply to. Still, Zelda is able to gauge a response without words. 

She shuffles forwards, tucking her chair in, “It  _ does _ smell good.”

For a moment, Link and Zelda observe Urbosa at work, listening to the clanging of pots and pans and the sizzling of vegetables and meat. The more Link thinks about it, the more he feels like he’s going to melt out of pure hunger, but he knows, if he tries to sneak a taste, he’ll get both ends of the ladle.

The soft slapping of bare feet against linoleum signals Mipha’s arrival in the kitchen. She rounds the table, as Zelda begins to pour herself a glass of water, and manages to squeeze herself into the seat crammed between the table and the window. That was more or less Mipha’s designated seat, seeing as she was the only one who could fit in it. After some fidgeting and shuffling, she makes herself comfortable at the table. She flashes the others a wide beam.

“Good evening!”

Formal as ever, even though this place was her home. 

“You disappeared earlier! I almost thought you’d gone out- you’re so quiet.” Zelda comments, taking a sip of her drink as Mipha begins to politely pour herself a glass.

“I had quite a bit of work to do. What with our tutor… out of action for the time being, I had a bit more to catch up on than normal.”

“Is that the one who had the heart attack?”

“Yes. I think he’s doing better now. Good thing it was in a room full of medical students, I suppose.”

Link is ready to zone out if the two of them begin to talk about their respective studies. He thinks he will be eternally impressed by their intelligence and ability to pursue such intensive courses, but he hasn’t eaten for a few hours- as his appetite goes up, his ability to concentrate goes down. 

As the two girls begin to natter, the back door flies open and Daruk edges in, trying to shut the door behind him without splintering the wood again. Urbosa watches him out of the corner of her eye, brows furrowed, but says nothing. She goes back to finishing up the meal, as Daruk manages to squish himself into his designated chair-- a small stone one. One that won’t easily break under the pressure and weight of… his entire being.

Sitting opposite Zelda, he relaxes, and she looks hesitant to ask what he’s been up to. With Daruk, it could be literally anything. 

As if on a very strange cue, Daruk then reaches into a sack under the table and slams down an enormous fistful of rocks onto the slate slab. As Zelda and Mipha both jump a foot out of their chairs, Link can only assume that this is his dinner.

After a short pause, Zelda questions, “Is that all you’re eating tonight?”

“I ate a lot earlier! Maybe… maybe a little too much,” he admits, with a sheepish chuckle. Link finds this man to be increasingly relatable with every passing day. It’s nice, not being the only person in the house to be targeted for their insatiable appetite. It’s a kind of solidarity Link is fond of.

As the handful of rocks carelessly crumble across the table, Link finds himself eager to get dinner started, as he watches Urbosa skilfully divide the various foods into shareable plates. He’s not sure he could oversell how good it smells- Urbosa isn’t exactly the greatest culinary master in the house (and Link’s tasted the good  _ and _ the bad), but when it comes to cooking food from her home region, naturally, she is the best. 

On top of that, she’s got hands of steel- strong enough to rival a Goron- and how she can manage to carry all those hot, heavy dishes at once is a mystery. No doubt, if Link found himself as an eight-foot tall Gerudo, he would most likely use his newfound strengths for the same purposes. 

The sound of plates and bowls, full of food, hitting the table with a dull thud, is a pleasant one. It’s a reminder that home is here. Nobody  _ has  _ to sit and eat at the table. Nobody decided that this was a thing they were going to do. It simply happened. Every night, if they can make it, they’ll congregate here. Sometimes it’s loud, sometimes it’s silent, but it’s a routine that gives a day stability. Link can’t help but feel like, if someone were to skip a night of communal eating, it would be like he hadn’t seen them in years. Strange, that it had such an effect.

Though, that being said…

“Aren’t we still missing--”

The moment Zelda begins to speak, her query is interrupted by the distinctive sound of the front door swinging open, before slamming shut again. With a slight quirk of the brow, she closes her mouth, as her question had more or less been answered.

“Speak of the devil, I suppose,” Urbosa murmurs, shifting into her seat beside Daruk. She leans over, beginning to spoon a sizable amount of food onto her own plate, as the girls also begin fixing their own meals. Link waits patiently for them to finish (odd, considering he’d been the most keen to start eating), as he listens to the sounds of clicking against linoleum flooring draw nearer and nearer.

“Starting without me again, I see.”

Urbosa doesn’t dignify the Rito standing in the doorway with even a glance, “Wouldn’t happen if you came home on time for dinner,” her words are stern, but her tone is remarkably flippant. 

Revali emits a huff, stalking over to the one remaining chair at the table, right on the end, opposite Mipha. “I apologise, I didn’t realise you’d implemented a curfew,” he says thickly, taking a seat and adjusting his tail feathers so he was sitting comfortably, “Not your fault you set a time without informing me. I don’t suppose you’d indulge me a little and actually  _ tell  _ me what time you’ve decided dinner is, would you?”

“Well, it’s not happening at midnight, so you do the math.”

Revali bristles, leaning over and almost grabbing the ladle right out of Link’s hand, as he begins to spoon food onto his own plate. Link watches him with a plain face. Guess he’d have to wait until he was done, too. Typical.

Once the Rito finishes serving himself, Link finally manages to dish himself up a plateful of food, his mouth watering in anticipation of the savoury meal. He shuffles forwards in his seat, adjusting his cutlery, and, for the first time all day, the entire household has gathered in one spot.

Dinnertime conversations are simple. Quiet murmurs from across the table, small chuckles and kind eyes, as they listen to the events of the day. If they didn’t look so unbelievably different from one another, it would be easy to mistake them for a biological family. Their intimacy is certainly convincing…

...but Link was never a fan of biology. Should he ever feel the need to talk, he’s sure he’d find himself expressing some kind of familial affection for this group of people who were once strangers to him. Funny, how that works.

His eyes flit around the table, at each person sitting there. At one point in time, none of these people knew each other, nor could they even anticipate meeting each other. They were from different races, different regions, different families and different circumstances. 

There was Zelda- a prim, proper princess with an inquisitive attitude bordering unseemly, and a badly-concealed streak of tenacity that made her quite an interesting character.

Then there was Mipha- another princess- with kind eyes, words and hands, who could heal beyond just physical injuries, it seems. However, like Zelda, there’s a tiny spark underneath those shining scales that would erupt with the right stimulation, and those moments made her all the more intriguing.

There was Urbosa- a forthright and respectable Gerudo ambassador, as well as the homeowner. She was terrifying to look at (and, to be honest, even more so when you got to know her) but she was sensible, reliable and a positive force of support to the house.

Daruk was an absolute powerhouse of a man, who kept the house up physically  _ and _ emotionally. He kept the mood light, but wasn’t afraid to get serious when it counted. If Urbosa was the brains behind the house, he was the brawn.

And, finally, there was Revali. An arrogant and prickly Rito… well, that was about it. He had his fair share of talents (which he wouldn’t hesitate to boast about), and, like the other residents, brought his advantages (and inflicted his disadvantages) upon the household. Nonetheless, it would feel empty if he wasn’t here.

Really not the kind of group Link had been expecting to live with, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel like home to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> revali: u started without me!  
> urbosa: no we didnt. the birdfeeder's outside.  
> revali: :/


	6. The Microwave Incident

Today is a pretty lazy day, one of the laziest Link’s had in a while. So lazy, in fact, he can’t even be bothered to cook- which is one of his favourite pastimes. After pulling himself out of bed at noon, and putting on a vaguely clean shirt, he takes one look at the stove and knows today isn’t the day.

He’s not the only one in the kitchen, however. He’d half-expected everybody to be out and about- they could be quite a busy bunch, but today may have just been a universally lazy day. At least, that’s what he thinks when he sees Revali and Mipha in the kitchen.

Mipha is wearing her comfiest scarf, reserved only for the most special of lazy days. It’s so enormous on her, it envelops most of her torso. Link would’ve thought it was just a blanket if she hadn’t put it round her neck. Nonetheless, it looks temptingly fluffy, dyed a pleasant rose colour with little dotted patterns. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous.

Revali is also wearing his laziest clothes- an even more surprising sight than Mipha, considering how picky he could be with his appearance. His feathers, normally tightly-braided, are loose, flowing across the back of his shoulders. The regular garb has been swapped for a jumper even bigger than Mipha’s gargantuan scarf. Supposedly, it’s to accommodate for the size of his wings, but that doesn’t explain why the soft, grey fabric drapes adorably around his knees. 

Also, it’s summer! Why was he even wearing it to begin with?

He eyes Link as he steps into the room, before going back to emptying something into a small, ceramic bowl. Mipha, on the other hand, looks far more pleased to see him. Her eyes sparkle, as she perks up and says, “Link! Good afternoon.”

Link offers a small, though slightly sleepy, wave. Mipha, holding a bag of bread in her arms, reaches in and extracts a few slices, before tucking it back in the bread box that… Link honestly never knew they had. How long had that been there?

“It’s two in the afternoon,” Revali snips, tossing an empty can skilfully into the bin behind him, “at this point, why even bother waking up?”

Link finds Revali’s flavour of banter to be an interesting one. Sometimes it’s even funny, but that doesn’t happen often. He sidesteps the Rito, opening one of the top cupboards and sifting through the contents. Once he finds a tin of something easily microwaveable that he likes, he shuts the door and manages to obtain a bowl from the bottom cupboard without tipping everything onto the floor.

As Mipha slots a few pieces of bread into the toaster, and Revali puts a few more things into his meal, Link promptly dumps the entire contents of the can into the bowl in one go. It slops unpleasantly against the ceramic, but, hey, it’s tasty.

However, as he’s about to put his meal-to-be into the microwave, he’s met with a totally expected and unbelievably irritating hurdle that comes in the form of his irritating Rito housemate. 

Revali glares down at him. He opens his beak, and, for a moment, Link thinks he isn’t going to say anything, but what actually comes out is a resigned sigh.

“You’re not going to yield on this one, are you?”

Link shakes his head.

“Even though I was here first.”

Link shakes his head again, knowing damn well that he wasn’t.

“You’ve  _ just  _ gotten out of bed,” Revali reasons, and not very well, “you’re the one who should wait.” As he says this, he reaches up to place his bowl carefully into the microwave.

The thing is, Link is… well, Link can’t resist a challenge. Fortunately, Revali presents himself as a challenge in every way, shape and form. That’s why, before Revali can shut the microwave door, Link swiftly jams his bowl in there too, much to Revali’s indignance.

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

Naturally, Link doesn’t answer. Instead, he slams the microwave door shut, jams it up to three minutes, and saunters over to the table to sit down. Revali stands there, absolutely appalled, which… isn’t really uncommon, for him.

Mipha watches this play out with wide, curious eyes, but doesn’t get involved. This isn’t a foreign situation to her- she’s mostly concerned by the fact the toaster sits on the counter directly beneath the microwave. If there’s going to be a spat, she’s going to have to wade right through it if she wants her toast.

The microwave hums, filling the silence between the three people. The moment is becoming more and more tense, until an odd flapping noise from outside the kitchen signals the arrival of a pleasant distraction- and the mail. 

"Ooh, that'll be the postman," Mipha pipes up, scampering out towards the front door. Revali stands there, arms folded and leaning against the kitchen counter as he sullenly watches Link out of the corner of his eye. Link is too busy staring out of the window to pay attention, but Revali doesn’t quite catch onto the fact that Link is also doing his best to blatantly ignore him.

Through the distant sounds of shuffling paper, Mipha calls, “You both have letters! They look quite important.”

On cue, the two of them get up from their respective perches and trudge over towards the front door.

Mipha is standing there with a handful of letters, sifting through them one-by-one. Her timing is perfect, as she holds out two letters between her fingers without looking up- one for each of them. Their response is wordless, as they take the mail.

Link takes one look at the address on the back and tosses it to the side. As he glances at the letter with disdain, Mipha’s lips pull into a pout, “You’re not going to open it?”

“It’s a bank statement,” Revali laughs under his breath, gently tearing one side of the letter open, “Of course he doesn’t want to read it. I wouldn’t read my bank statement if my spending habits were anything like his.”

Link would retort, but… he knows the twenty packs of Kakariko brand rice snacks (bought only last week) that are sitting empty in his trash can will beg to differ. Instead, he offers Revali a tart side-eye, watching him as he pulls the letter out of the envelope.

Mipha sets the rest of the letters to the side, “Well, I’m sure your spending records aren’t sparkling clean, either, Revali.”

Revali doesn’t respond. He’s too preoccupied with his letter, but his expression is an interesting one. His eyebrows slowly rise as his eyes flick over the same line, over and over. Link doesn’t really like intruding on other people’s post, but he can’t deny that he’s curious. He glances over at Mipha, who seems to be thinking something similar.

“What is it?”

As she says this, Link is half-expecting a sour response. Some kind of snarky quip about how they should mind their own business. That seems like the most Revali-like retort to receive in response to a very innocuous question. That’s what he’d been expecting.

What he hadn’t been expecting was a sudden bang that cuts Revali off before he can even begin speaking. The noise is indescribable. It’s like the sound of something popping, but at the volume of about fifty Gorons screaming through a microphone. It’s so loud, all three of them jump about a foot into the air, yelping in perfect sync. Even Mipha, who meticulously maintains her calm disposition, and Revali, who would never admit to be anything other than imperturbable, both screech in a manner most unseemly.

Of course, once the immediate shock of having their ear canals burst by a noise from the deepest pits of Death Mountain wears off, they sprint off towards the kitchen. Link almost headbutts the door doing so, and Mipha overshoots her mark and slides right across the floor into the wall, but the scene before them is one of utter devastation. Link can’t believe what he’s seeing.

The floor is covered in little shards of glass and metal, and yet, somehow, that’s the least offensive thing to be seen here. The food Link and Revali had been cooking aren’t so much in bowls than spread across the entire room. The microwave door is nowhere to be found, not even on the microwave, but the broken window opposite gives Link some kind of indication as to where it may have travelled to. It’s definitely not a savoury scene.

Oh, and the microwave was on fire.

Mipha reacts first, with a shrill squeal, but no words. Link does his best to sidestep around most of the devastation, but Revali goes straight over the glass, wincing slightly as he does so. Link would ponder the sturdy reliability of Rito talons, but now really wasn’t the time for it.

“Shit-- what the hell happened?!” Revali squawks, shifting awkwardly. He’s clearly trying to do something about the immediate hazard in the room, but no thoughts are coming to his mind. Link uselessly scratches his head, looking around. 

“Put it out, put it out!” Mipha cries.

“With  _ what?!” _

Link grits his teeth, but points at the sink with a quizzical expression. Despite being about a foot away from a kitchen fire, Revali manages to find the time to shoot him an incredibly deadpan expression.

“Are you high? You want me to put water on an electrical fire?!”

Link frantically shrugs, and Mipha looks on the verge of fainting, as she hops from one foot to the other, “Revali! We need to get rid of it- or smother it!”

“Get rid of it- that’s a good idea. Not like we can save it. Um,” he stops short for a second, tentatively approaching the microwave and wondering just how to go about handling this fiery mess.

After a moment, he turns to Link, “You get rid of it,” he says, plainly. “You were the one who put your bowl in without waiting your turn. This is your fault.”

Link’s nose scrunches up as he pouts. How was this his fault?! You could  _ easily  _ fit two bowls in a microwave. He did it all the time! No, this must’ve been something else. Could something else have been put in there by mistake?

Revali sighs, and when Revali sighs, he really puts his whole body into it, “Fine,” he spits, “Open the door. I’ll throw it out- and be quick about it.”

Link is more than happy to oblige. Nothing would make him happier than disposing of the flaming appliance- evidence to their crimes of incompetence. As he manages to pull the door open without getting a footful of glass, Revali somehow manages to grab a hold of the sizzling microwave, armed only with a tea-towel and some incredible bravery. 

It takes him about three seconds to spin around and toss it out of the back door, far enough to prevent it from causing any more damage to the house. The patch of grass it lands on becomes singed and blackened as the microwave peacefully burns out.

Everyone takes a moment to emit a sigh and perhaps a soft expletive, if desired.

Revali shuts the back door (out of sight, out of mind, in his eyes), but the gaping hole in the window draws his eye and he sags. This was overwhelmingly bad. The microwave was one thing, but the window was another. 

“Oh no,” Mipha laments, “What happened? I’ve never seen it do that before!”

Both Link and Revali’s heads snap to one another, wearing equally sour expressions. An unfortunate choice on Mipha’s part- out of all the elephants in the room, addressing this particular elephant was the worst one to start with. 

“It was you--” Revali stalks over towards the Link, pointing an accusatory appendage right in his face, “If you hadn’t been so impatient, not to mention utterly childish about the whole affair, this wouldn’t have happened!”

Lips pulled into a hefty pout, Link firmly shakes his head. He wasn’t going to back down on this one. There was no telling how this happened, but he knows for sure that this wasn’t the reason. He isn’t even going to start on the hypocrisy- Revali’s impatience had gotten him into just as much trouble. 

Revali glowers, clearly planning another verbal assault in his mind, but Mipha interjects, placing herself between them. Link is thankful. Between the earful he’ll get from Zelda and the bollocking he’ll get from Urbosa, he doesn’t want to add Revali’s complaints on top of the pile- especially when he had no leg to stand on in this debate.

“Now calm down! There’s no telling whose fault it is. It could’ve been either of you, or both! Maybe the machine was faulty. We won’t get anywhere by blaming each other,” Mipha chides them both, her face creased into an adorable little frown that was definitely not one to be messed with.

After a moment, Revali sighs, “Fine. We have bigger things on our plate right now, anyway- like Urbosa.”

“We need to clean this up before the others come ba--”

“ _ Woah _ , what bomb went off in here?!”

Jumpy from the literal explosion they’d been faced with, the trio all jolt at the voice coming from the doorway. 

Luckily (or not), it was only Daruk. He’s standing in the open doorway, staring at the wreckage of the kitchen with a bemused expression plastered on his face. His forehead creases and he scratches his chin, “Can’t leave you guys alone for a minute, can we? And where’s the microwave gone?”

“It’s in the garden,” Revali responds, flatly.

The Goron emits a heavy sigh, “Well, that’s no good, is it? This is some mess you’ve made. Well, I’m off out. I’ll see you guys later, eh?”

“What?!” Revali suddenly squawks, lurching over to stop Daruk from leaving, “You can’t just turn up and then disappear! At least have the decency to help us out!”

Though Revali’s demands might’ve been a little self-entitled, Mipha emits a follow-up plea, “Please help us, Daruk! If Urbosa comes back and sees what happened, there’ll be such trouble!”

Revali takes a moment to pause, glancing at Mipha, “What do you mean ‘we’? You technically had nothing to do with this.”

Mipha puts a finger to her chin, thoughtfully, “Not directly, but I am still a witness to your crimes.”

“You mean  _ his  _ crimes!” An offending and accusatory finger is thrust in Link’s general direction. Link frowns in defense.

“And because I’d partially expected you to ‘throw me under the bus’ so to speak.”

Revali shakes his head with exasperation, as if he'd found himself as the third musketeer of a trio of idiots. He's beginning to seethe, and it's obvious by the flaring of feathers around his cheeks. 

"Alright, alright-- tell ya what, I'll head out and see if I can't find us a new microwave. I reckon she'll be a little less sore about it if we at least offer some kind of replacement."

"If we get the same model, she might not even notice…" 

"That's the spirit! I'll see what I can do," Daruk grins, balling an enormous fist with triumph. Revali still doesn't look all too pleased by the prospect of having to clear up the aftermath of a microwave meltdown, but he'd been heavily implicated here, and he knows he won't be able to talk his way out of this- at least, not to Urbosa. 

And so Daruk takes that as his cue to slink off, leaving the other three behind to sort out the damage control.

  
  


* * *

Link has never cleaned up so quickly in his life. That is an absolute certainty.

They’d split the jobs apart between the three of them, which he’s very thankful for. Mipha is definitely one of the better cleaners in the house, so she’s naturally very diligent about the whole thing. Revali isn’t doing the worst job of it, either, but Link reckons he could do with less muttered expletives.

The glass has been swept up and disposed of. The food splattered over the room has been wiped up and washed down. The burn marks however…

“It’s not coming off,” Mipha whines, softly, “I think I’ve tried everything.”

She’s currently kneeling up on the counter, attacking the blackened wall with a sponge and more cleaning products than Link has ever seen in his life. Unfortunately, it didn’t even seem to be making a dent in the enormous mess. Mipha sats back, deflating slightly, with a forlorn expression. 

“Of course it’s not going to come off,” Revali sighs, “You can’t just clean up fire damage like that.” He sets aside the mop, having finished wiping the globs of food stuck to the ceiling. 

Mipha frowns, “Well, if you knew that already, then why didn’t you say anything earlier? I’ve been at this for fifteen minutes now!”

Revali, unsurprisingly, has no answer to that.

Link squints up at the portion of wall behind where the microwave used to be. It’s utterly charred. Parts of where the wall had been painted is now flaking off, and Mipha’s attempts to wipe it up has only exacerbated the damage. Well, if there was any way to cover it up…

Link indicates to the wall with a quick flicking motion of the hand. It’s a simple but recognisable gesture, and Mipha perks up with widened eyes.

“Paint? We  _ could  _ paint over it. That would definitely hide the damage, but I’m not sure if we have any paint!” She inspects the wall with a dainty finger to her chin, eyes narrowing as she thinks quite hard on it.

“Paint is all well and good, providing you can get your hands on some in time, but we’re still left with a pretty glaring problem,” Revali snarks, before extending a wing out to the window overlooking the dining table. It’s… awful. There’s an enormous hole right in the middle of it, with cracks that stretch out to the very edges of the frame. There was no fixing this one.

“I mean, you can try putting paint on it, but I’m not sure you’d get very far.”

“Oh no,” Mipha’s voice is nothing but a squeak now, as she plants her hands over her cheeks, “I’d almost forgotten about that! Ooh…”

Link also sighs. Somehow, he’s not sure what’s worse. A broken window or a broken microwave. At least the microwave could be easily replaced (but that was entirely dependent on the reliability of Daruk). Try as they might, this was probably the one thing that would force them to admit defeat.

“The microwave is one thing- did it have to take out the window as well? Damn it…” Revali scratches the back of his neck with exhaustion. Link takes a moment to peer out of the hole in the glass. The lack of door on the microwave had led Link to deduce that it had taken its exit via this window, but it can’t be seen anywhere in the garden. Link reckons if he goes for a rummage in the bushes, he’ll find it in there somewhere. He’ll have to get rid of it later.

“So what do we do about paint? We can pay for the window in advance, but this wall really should be dealt with now.”

“The shed, perhaps? If there’s none in there, we might have to just buy some.”

“If we don’t get it in time, we’ll have to buy some anyway,” Mipha’s expression is downcast as she speaks, no doubt envisioning Urbosa’s wrath upon returning home, “Link, would you go and have a look in the shed for us?”

Link nods plainly, hopping out of the back door. He falters for a moment, seeing the microwave still sitting there, smoking. Though it was out of the house, they’d definitely need to get it out of the garden, too.

The shed sits on the left-hand side of the garden, right behind where the garage juts out of the building. It’s a rickety little wooden thing, piled high with all the miscellaneous things they couldn’t fit in the house. Now, normally, Link is barred from entering this shed, but desperate times calls for desperate measures, and he manages to unbolt the door, allowing it to creak open. The door clearly doesn’t fit the shed, so it’s a struggle getting it open and closed.

It’s… a mess. It’s always been a mess.

There’s an old, unusable lawnmower that takes up most of the space in here. A pair of rusted hedge trimmers have been thrown haphazardly right on top of it, along with other gardening tools and spare parts of Urbosa’s car. Zelda’s bicycle used to live in here, too, until it became too crammed for it to fit. 

Link does his best to rummage through the mess, but it’s all heavy and entangled, making it impossible to move out of the shed. Instead, he has to settle for edging in as far as he can and scanning as much as he can see.

Luckily, all the tins of things that don’t belong in the house are all (not very) neatly lined up on a thin shelf that runs around the top of the shed. They’re all pretty dirty, with torn labels and spilt contents. Link looks over a few pots that look like old glue and oil. There’s another tin of varnish, which has spilt over a large portion of the wall, staining it dark brown. 

If he tilts his head, he can just about make out some thick cans of what looks to be paint. One is a dusty rose colour- the colour of the front room. Another is a simple off-white colour. It’s not quite the shade of magnolia the kitchen is painted, but Link figures it’s better than nothing. If they get the new microwave installed in time, Urbosa might not even notice until after they got the right colour paint.

He strains to reach up, attempting to finger the underside of the can of paint in the hopes of pulling it from the shelf. Luckily, he manages to catch the tin before it splatters across the contents of the shed, and him, too.

When he returns to the house, paint in hand, Mipha is busy putting away the cleaning implements whilst Revali chatters on the phone. Mipha shuts the cupboard door with a slight frown upon her features.

“Wh--, what  _ exactly _ do you think I mean when I say urgent? I have a big, gaping hole in my window, which is a serious problem! Do you really expect me to just leave it as it is whilst I wait for you to come and fix it? I can’t wait a week!”

Link creeps in, sensing the tension that has settled over the room. Somehow, he was even more insufferable over the phone. Link would feel bad for the guy on the other end of the line, but, surprisingly, Revali’s demands turn out to be very reasonable more often than not. 

Link also doesn’t want to wait a week for the window to be fixed, either. He supposes they could cover it up with a curtain as best they can, but they wouldn’t be able to get away with that for long. He sets the can of paint down on the counter.

“Did you find some?” Mipha’s tone is hopeful, but the glimmer in her eye dies when she sees the colour plastered over the label. 

“Oh. That’s… not quite what we wanted, is it?”

Link shakes his head.

“Mm, but it’s not… it’s not too far from it. Perhaps if we could find a little bit of yellow paint and mix it in, we may be able to get the right shade!”

Link’s thoughts exactly. He flashes her a quick thumbs up, as her lips crease in thought. She taps her chin, thoughtfully. 

“I’m afraid I don’t use such paint, however. I wonder where we could get some…”

As she says this, her soft pondering is interrupted by a harsh squawk from Revali, glaring at the phone and gripping it hard enough to crush it.

“Oh, never mind. It seems you’re more of a gaping hole than the damn window!” The phone hits the receiver with a loud clatter, and Revali’s fuming is audible.

“Don’t tell them that,” Mipha pouts, “Now they won’t come here.”

“They weren’t planning on it to begin with!” Revali throws his wings up in frustration, stalking back through the kitchen and settling against one of the countertops. He emits a breath so harsh, Link can practically feel it from the other side of the room. He offers a sympathetic gaze, but that’s about as much as he can muster.

“Alright, then, what did you find? Something useful, I hope.”

Well, Link was just full of disappointments today, wasn’t he? 

His mouth stretches out into an odd line, as he spins the can of paint around so Revali can spy the label. Who knew such a simple scrap of sticky paper could be so offensive to the eyes? Revali’s expression is frosty, disturbing the tufts of feathers around his cheeks.

“Tch. Typical.”

“It’s alright,” Mipha scrambles to interject, her tiny voice laced with hope, “We were just discussing an idea! If we find something yellow to mix with it, it should make the right shade!”

Link nods eagerly, desperately wishing Revali would stop pulling such an ugly face. Revali seems to consider the idea for a moment, staring at the label with thought in his eyes. After a short period of silence, Revali shrugs.

“I suppose it’ll have to do. Go and find some proper paintbrushes. I’ll go and see if I have any yellow paint,” He murmurs, pulling himself away from his perch on the counter and sauntering in the direction of his room. Mipha blinks for a moment.

“You have paint? What for?”

“None of your business.”

* * *

“How’s it looking?”

“Add a little bit more.”

“We don’t need that much.”

Revali frowns, hesitantly adding another drop of bright yellow paint to the small tray. The paint inside the container is a pale yellow, but seemingly not yellow enough to match the shade of the wall. Link quickly stirs the colour in, before holding the brush up to match.

“I think that looks good.”

“It’ll be behind the microwave. She probably won’t see that much of it.”

“She’ll have to notice sooner or later.”

Link looks up at his two housemates, flicking the excess paint from the brush. His quizzical eyes are enough for them to gauge the question in his head.

“Well, you might as well stick it on there. Let’s see how it looks.”

With not much else but a shrug, Link begins to slap the paint over the crusted section of the wall. It’s a little more yellow than the tone of the wall, but it wouldn’t be very noticeable once the new microwave was fitted- and who knows? Maybe the shade will change as it dries.

Though, speaking of the microwave…

“Where’s he gotten to? It’s been almost two hours and I haven’t heard a word from him,” Revali begins to complain, folding his arms in a manner most petulant. Mipha gazes up at him, sympathetically, but the worry is evident in the wringing of her hands.

“It must be quite hard to find the same model of microwave we had.”

Revali doesn’t hesitate to roll his eyes, “How hard can it be? There’s a whole bloody chain of stores out there dedicated to selling  _ only  _ microwaves. Unless he’s gone looking through the damn clothes aisles, I can’t imagine how he hasn’t found one by now.”

Mipha goes quiet. Revali seemed to be far more irate than normal today, so crossing his path was not a clever idea. She emits a noncommittal hum, watching as Link tries his hardest not to drip paint everywhere. It might need another coat later, but it’s working surprisingly well so far!

“Ugh. I’m going to phone him.”

Revali stalks over to where his phone is sitting idle on the table whilst Mipha watches Link do his best to slather the wall damage in paint. He’s having to sacrifice the state of his trousers for this, to prevent the paint from dripping onto the counter. Mipha clearly wants to help, but isn’t sure how to. That is, until an idea pops into her head. Her eyes brighten considerably, as she scurries out of the room for reasons beyond Link.

“Will you get a move on? Where are you, anyway?”

Daruk’s gravelly voice can be heard on the other end of the line, but not clear enough for Link to listen in on the conversation. In fairness, he’d be surprised if Daruk could get a defense in against Revali’s verbal bollocking. The man just would not shut up.

Revali sighs, another spiel begins, and Link can hear the soft slapping of Mipha’s feet against the linoleum as she hurries back into the kitchen. He doesn’t look up from his work, though. Instead, he drags the brush upwards through the thick paint, coating the last of the damage. Now it just looks like a big, slightly crispy grey splodge. He’d have to wait for it to dry before adding more paint.

As if on cue, the moment the thought comes into his head, he’s suddenly hit by a blast of warmth over the back of his neck and a noise that’s comparable to Revali’s cat on a particularly bad day. It’s enough to make him jump, but not enough to make him topple over off the counter. 

Mipha is standing behind him with a fierce look on her face and a pastel pink hair-dryer in her hands. No doubt, she’d thought of a way to hurry the drying process along, and had ransacked Zelda’s room in pursuit of it. He has to admit, though, it’s not a bad idea at all. The warmth was pretty comforting too.

He can see Revali glaring at them from out of the corner of his eye, as he patiently watches the globules of yellow slowly fade into a greying tan colour. It’s almost therapeutic. To think of all the sayings he’s heard about watching paint dry, this wasn’t all too bad. It did well to distract him from the inevitable looming nightmare of Urbosa’s reaction to their mishap.

“What did Daruk say?” Mipha has to shout at Revali over the din of the hairdryer. He ambles over towards them, eyeing the hair-dryer with disdain.

“He said he’ll be here in about half an hour.”

“And what about the window?”

“Oh, god, I forgot about the window. Ugh…” Revali palms his face, eyebrows setting into a deep frown, “Okay, we’ll… just have to own up to the window, since we’re going to pay to get it fixed anyway.”

“Urbosa will be awfully sore about it.”

“Not as sore as she’s going to be when she finds out  _ why  _ the window is broken. So, if we can keep that part to ourselves, that’ll be lovely, thank you,” Revali eyes Mipha pointedly, who frowns.

“Why are you looking at me?”

“Because you’re the only one here with a functional guilty conscience. How’s the wall looking?”

“I think it might be dry enough to put more paint on. It’s working better than I thought it would!”

Link takes up the paintbrush again and begins to add another light layer of paint over the first. The shade is still a little brighter than the original, but it’s definitely not bad by any stretch of the margin. He nods to himself, satisfactorily. 

The satisfaction lasts… about four seconds? If that? That’s when the clicking of the front door can be heard throughout the house, followed by the creaking of hinges. Mipha shoots a quizzical look at Revali, “I thought you said Daruk would be back in half an hour?”

Revali opens his beak. Then he shuts it. Then he opens it again. No words come out, but the way his eyebrows ascend in realisation is enough to make Link’s stomach churn in panic. Mipha emits an gasp inaudible to both boys, because the voices of Zelda and Urbosa coming from the front porch are far louder than she is. 

Without a second of hesitation, Revali spins on his heel and heads for the back door. Mipha seems torn between the both of them, moving erratically. Her frantic expression would be considered comical if they weren’t in serious danger right now. 

“Where are you going?!”

“I’m off. I’ve done all I could here, and I’m not sticking around to see what happens next.”

Link wonders what Revali’s actually done today that’s extended past yelling at people over the phone, until Revali calls over his shoulder, “I’ll pay for the window. Have fun.”

With that, he’s away, like he was never there. Link can’t help but feel envious of his ability to just disappear when the time calls for it, but it’s at this point that Link realises Revali is sneakily good at covering his tracks when he needs to. Unfortunately, all that left him with was an anxious-to-the-point-of-combustion Zora, a suspiciously missing microwave and a brush covered in a shade of paint he likes to call ‘guilt.’

So, as he always did when smack bang in the middle of a resoundingly bad situation, he greets Urbosa with a smile, ignoring the rumbling of thunder barely heard in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> microwave: oh you're cooking something?  
> microwave: hm. i dont think theres enough jeopardy involved here.  
> microwave: i can fix that


End file.
